Spice Jam
by Epic ADD
Summary: AU. CRACK. Silly Spice. Scruffy Spice. Sleepy Spice. Nice Spice. Cinnamon Spice. Sexy Spice. Smiley Spice. This was one offer Sakura should've refused.
1. Chapter 1

**title:** Spice Jam  
**author(s):** Epic ADD (personally, I, ohwhatsherface, liked _pannannie_ but NOOOO) or more specifically the blanket, annieberry and ohwhatsherface  
**pairing(s):** Do these even matter? This is crack! But for the sake of having one: Neji/Reflection (and the obvious drizzles of Sasuke/Sakura because it's _us_)  
**for: **THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD BECAUSE WE ARE RAYS OF LOVE AND SUNSHINE.  
**disclaimer:** We do not own Naruto. If we did, it wouldn't be as lame as it is now. Because it is. Lame, I mean.

**a/n:** LAWL. So this is what happens when I get stuck posting. And also, Merry Belated Christmas!  
Sorry, this was supposed to be up yesterday but I was busy playing Monopoly and eating sugar cookies.  
And last, we love the freaking Spice Girls. And their movies.

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* * *

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**KONOHA SUN  
**by: Aburame Shino

Twenty years ago, it was _The Sandaime._

Ten years ago, it was _The Flash_.

Five months ago, it was _Akatsuki_.

Today, it's the _Spice Boys_.

Armed with soulful ballads, head-bobbing beats, and scorching dance-moves, the Spice Boys have easily become Generation X's answer to _The Legendary Sannin_. The dynamic septet—led by teen heartthrob Uchiha Sasuke, brother of rival band _Akatsuki_'s Uchiha Itachi, and one of the heirs to the Uchiha Corp. fortune—are this year's breakout hit.

"They're _amazing_," gushed a fan, who was coming out of last night's sold-put concert at the Meadow. She held her handkerchief like a lifeline. "I think one of Sasuke-kun's sweat drops landed on this!"

"I tattooed Cinnamon's name on my heart last night," another fan was heard to say, before unbuttoning it to show onlookers the florid script. "He is just so _posh!_ What I'd give to run my hands through that hair of his!_"_

This kind of devotion seems to be commonplace among fans of the _Spice Boys_. However, as any fanatic can testify, such acts—tattooing hearts, throwing underwear, etc.—are hardly unique in the world of music. It will, for example, be a long while before anyone can forget the day all of _The_ _Sannin's_ female fans voluntarily left home topless, simply to provide Pervy Sage with the inspiration he needed to write their last hit. Despite that, _The Spice Boys_ are a unique case—unlike _The Sannin_, whose music appeals to a generation past, and the _Akatsuki_, who aim their tunes at urban professionals, _The Spice Boys _enjoy a broad appeal. Their demographic cannot be pinpointed to any one particular group.

"I hope _Silly _caught my bra all right," said a grandmother of three, who came to the concert with her grandchildren. "I spritzed it with miso-flavored ramen broth, just the way he likes it!"

Perhaps, their appeal can be attributed to the fact that each member offers something different to their audience. _Silly_, whose real name is Uzumaki Naruto—who is also son of The Flash—is a blond-haired, blue-eyed ingénue, clearly meant to call forth his fans' motherly instincts. On the other hand, _Scruffy_, called Inuzuka Kiba off-stage, is a rugged wild-man, whose fashionable scruff-factor is appealing to the wilder, PETA-set. For the apathetic _literati_, the Spice Boys offer _Sleepy_, also known as Nara Shikamaru, a rebel without a cause, with dark, thick hair, and bedroom eyes. _Nice Spice_, the glittering Rock Lee, is almost overwhelmingly wholesome—perfect as the boy next door. _Cinnamon_, Hyuuga Neji—scion of HYUUGATECH—is the spice of choice for the more discriminating fashionista. Of course, most women do appreciate the tall, dark, and the handsome. While none of the Spice Boys is a slouch in that department, two of them share this particular crown. _Sexy Spice_, and _Smiley Spice_ play up their pale-skinned, dark-eyed looks to their advantage.

Still, by far—

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* * *

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Disgusted, Pein threw the magazine down on his massive cherry oak desk. Spotless and nearly bare – save for a sleek and shiny computer at one far end, a lone framed picture, and a phone – the desk was the only piece of furniture in the oversized room other than his plush black swivel chair, which he sank back into now, contemplating the picture that brooded, beamed, and blazed in full color from the center of the page boldly proclaiming the Spice Boys as the newest, hottest phenomenon to ever hit the music industry.

It made Pein's lip curl.

Frustrated, he flipped the magazine closed. Unfortunately, those damned Spice Boys were grouped together on the cover as well. Was there no getting away from the craze?

He paused, narrowed-eyes gaze resting on the framed photo on his desk. He picked it up thoughtfully.

It was true: the Spice Boys appealed to men and women, young and old, all shapes and all sizes. But there was one girl that Pein knew who could care less about the so-called heartthrobs of the century.

Luckily, that one girl happened to be very near and dear to Pein.

He set down the photo and picked up the phone. "Konan," he said when his secretary – and ex-wife – picked up. Her reply was snappy, but he didn't lift his gaze from the picture of the rose-haired, green-eyed teenager peering up at him with a wide, open grin.

He turned his attention back to the phone. "Get me Sakura."

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* * *

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Sakura had been getting a coffee when she got the call. Since she'd yet to have her daily caffeine fix, she had been a bit grump in answering.

"What do you want?"

"Manners, Sakura. Get down here."

"_Manners, Daddy. _What for?"

"I have a job for you."

"Can it wait? I'm in Starbucks."

"Get me a coffee while you're at it, then get down here. This is important."

The phone beeped off without so much as a goodbye from either end, and Sakura scowled, shoving it back in her purse. In the same movement, she pulled out her wallet, yanked open the zipper, and peered in. if she used every last coin and didn't get the muffin, she had just barely enough to get two drinks.

_Dammit_. Why did she never have any money? She was hitting the bank as soon as she got to her dad's office – the bank being his wallet, naturally.

Still, as compensation, she got herself a large, got her father a small. He was as much of a coffee junkie as she was, and she couldn't wait to see his face.

Well, that's what you got when you disturbed Haruno Sakura at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. Not even Pein, owner of the single biggest telecommunications network this side of Japan, the MTV of Konoha, and Sakura's old man, could tell _her _what to do.

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* * *

.

As expected, Pein had looked disgruntled at the dinky little cup Sakura offered him, but he didn't comment, only clasped his hands together on his desk and watched as she paced around.

"Why is there nowhere to sit?" Sakura complained. "Your office is pretty suckish. Well, except the view," she said, nodding appreciatively at the poster windows taking up most of the wall behind Pein. "Though that would kind of freak me out, honestly, it's so high up."

Pein raised an eyebrow. "Did your mother put you up to this?" he asked dryly.

"You wound me, Daddy. I would _never _put myself in between you two—"

"New bag," he observed, voice still flat. "Was that the bribe?"

Sakura fingered the strap of her new _YSL_ bag guiltily, and Pein knew he had her.

"Sakura. I will buy you as many brand-new Louis Vuitton bags as you want if you do something for me." Sakura's eyes lit up and she moved closer, interested. Pein slid the magazine he had been perusing earlier across the table, and watched her interest fade to surprise, then disgust.

She grinned evilly when her father opened his mouth to give her the assignment.

"Ha, did you really think it'd be that easy, Daddy?" she cooed. Still smiling, she reached into her designer bag and pulled out some fashion magazine. After a moment, she found the page she wanted and pointed to a pair of black leather boots – similar to all the other black boots she owned. "I want these ones." She looked thoughtful for a moment and then gestured to the red high heels. "Oh, and these ones, too, while you're at it."

Pein narrowed his eyes. "It seems you have become spoiled, young one."

He almost sounded disappointed.

"_Excuse me_ – ugh, no way!" Sakura shook her head, looking very insulted. "I'm not spoiled, _old man_." She smirked, flipping her pink hair over her shoulder. "I'm _smart_. And cunning. And manipulative. Heh, one of my teacher's in high school said I have the potential to become a sociopath!" Sakura shrugged mock-modestly. "I just know how to play my cards right, is all."

His eyes glittered with pride. "Ah, a skill you developed from—"

"_Mom_."

He immediately scowled at the too giddy nineteen-year-old and picked up the magazine only to drop it back onto the table loudly.

"Enough," he growled. "You will get your purses and shoes if you do a certain job for me." She raised an eyebrow but he ignored it, changing the subject. "Hm… Tell me, Sakura, how is your internship at _my_ company? Are you enjoying the job _I _got you?"

Sakura rolled her eyes. "Oi, it was my _brains and finesse_ that got me the internship."

"Yes, combined with my status."

"…Yeah well…" She pouted and shifted from side to side on her brown ankle boots. "Whatever," Sakura muttered, crossing her arms. "That only _helped_. I would've gotten into the program without your assistance, _Father_. I _am_ very capable in video production, in case you haven't noticed—"

"I have noticed," Pein interrupted, nodding.

Sakura was quick to stare at him suspiciously.

Her father only really paid much attention to her when he needed something from her, to be frank. She didn't quite mind that since in place of him was his credit card, but compliments from him were few and far in between. Even when they worked in the same building, right above her, they didn't bother spending their lunch breaks together. Her mother, on the other hand, despite her constant impassive face, managed to make the time to see Sakura at least twice a week.

"Apparently this job you require of me is going to be very hard," Sakura stated, tilting her head a bit to attempt to look confident, "considering it needs both bribes _and_ compliments."

"You wound me, Sakura," Pein said dryly. He then pointed to the magazine. "Anyway, I have a job for you—"

"No _duh_."

"—which will require you to spend some time with," he sneered, looking down at the open page, "the _Spice Boys_."

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* * *

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There were three instances in her life when Sakura actually _hated_ her father.

The first time was when she was in kindergarten, on her first day. Her (twelfth) nanny had quit two days before, claiming Sakura was a 'demon child', Konan was on a trip in another country, and little Sakura refused to go with one of her father's drivers, thus leaving Pein as the one to drop her off.

Unfortunately, dropping her off was all he did.

Sakura had waited on the stairs at the front of her school with her teacher for a good three hours before her father finally came.

She promptly kicked him in the shin and ran to the car, leaving him to the disapproving stare of her teacher.

The second time was when she was in ninth grade and managed to get a major role in the school play. It took place around the time of her parents' divorce, shortly after her mother moved out ergo her parents were arriving separately.

Or so she thought. She was livid when she saw that the two seats she reserved in the front row for her parents were only half occupied. It wasn't until her father took her shopping to make his absence up to her that he admitted her was with a woman that night as he was attempting to date again now that he and her mother were over.

The third time was when he told her about a deal he made with Hatake Kakashi, the manager of the Spice Boys. Apparently her father was to make a two hour documentary on the Spice Boys with footage from their current tour, which _Sakura_ was to film and edit and produce – something she had always dreamed of doing.

"I can't believe him!" Sakura whined as she slipped off her ankle boots to try on a pair of sleek, blue stilettos. "He's going to make me tour with those total_ losers_!"

Deidara nodded sympathetically. "Let it out, sweetheart."

He was something akin to Sakura's nanny, despite the fact that she was already nineteen. Deidara was her driver and had the secret job – assigned by Pein, of course – to make sure Sakura knew the definition of a budget when she went shopping. However most of the time, he played fashion consultant to her when said job was required.

Like at that moment.

He looked at the shoes on Sakura's feet and gasped loudly. "_Ick_, Sakura! Look at that, you have _toe cleavage_!" Deidara shook his blond head. "That's just… weird. Take those things off immediately, young lady."

"Yeah." Sakura frowned at the shoes. "Ew. Totally."

Deidara handed her a pair of green, pointed flats after asking someone to get them in her size. Sakura was clearly going through a tough time, Deidara noticed, therefore she very much deserved a good new pair of shoes, a new dress and maybe some more clothes to rectify her father's injustice

"Here, try these."

"I mean, Deidara, he wants me to spend the next three months – the rest of my _break_ – trailing behind a pack of stupid prissy boys when I should be learning at my internship and having fun with my friends!" Sakura wailed, slipping one shoe on her right foot. "I mean, Daddy is so _lame_! Way to make me _want_ to go back to school!"

Deidara patted her on the head. "Well, sweetheart, if it's any consolation, those shoes look _fab_."

Sakura sniffled in self-pity before looking up at him smiling. "Really?"

"Totally!"

She sighed as she slipped them off and put them in the box. After paying for them, Sakura grinned at the nice, large sum on her receipt.

_Take that, old man!_

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* * *

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Their headquarters was located in an old warehouse they'd had restored, on a fashionable side street off of Main Avenue, squeezed between a _Marc for Marc Jacobs _boutique and a bakery famous for its mouthwatering red velvet cupcakes. The rent was hell on the pocketbook, but Hatake Kakashi decided that didn't really matter. In this business, sending the right message was everything, and the band on the brink of being this year's hottest new teen act could ill-afford to be seen anywhere that didn't scream _chic_.

Inside, the studio was walled with mirrors. The record company paid some poor soul a monthly salary to come in every morning to polish the floors to a reflective shine, and then, to dot the corners of each rehearsal room with packets of sandalwood— Hyuuga Neji, Kakashi thought, was really _too much_, sometimes.

The silver-haired manager shut his eyes, and allowed Uchiha Sasuke's silk-smooth voice to blend with Inuzuka Kiba's low rasp, as Uzumaki Naruto and Nara Shikamaru finished the bridge, and Neji, Sai, and Rock Lee harmonized in the background.

The walls were painted a meditative green—dark enough to appeal to Sasuke's light-sensitive eyes, and bright enough that Lee's _FLAME OF YOUTH!_ stayed disappointingly well-lit. In addition to a room for each of the band members, as well as one for their manager, choreographer, and voice coach, there was a single room with green felt upholstery, and a mountain of chew toys for the band pet, Akamaru—enough to keep him satisfied through eighteen hours of rehearsals. The kitchen was kept well-stocked with sparkling water (for Neji), instant ramen (for Naruto), green tea (for Lee), and tomatoes (for Sasuke). The sheets in "nap-room"— specifically tailored to meet Shikamaru's regrettably uncontrollable sleeping hours—had an obscene thread count, and the ceiling was painted in a sky blue with dots of cotton-white, courtesy of Sai.

_They've certainly made it a sight to behold_—_as close to a home as they'll have when they're not on the road, anyway, _Kakashi reflected, as he took another sip of his tall _Sumatra, _and crinkled the magazine he held in one hand_._

Not that anyone would have been able to see it at the moment, as it was covered in pitch-black darkness.

"All right, boys! Take five!" Maito Gai, retired opera tenor—and one of the few famed _castrati _outside of Italy—beamed veritable rainbows as light flooded the room in careful increments. Sasuke's eyes wouldn't be able to handle it otherwise.

Lee leapt up, and ran to his mentor, ready to start their daily aerobic exercises.

"Let's go, Gai-_sensei_! We must exercise more than our youthful voices to stay in shape, after all!"

"Finally," Kiba groused. "We've been at it for ages, no thanks to _Naruto _and his special brand of idiocy. How many times can you mess up the chorus, anyway?"

The blond turned away from the perpetual one-sided glaring contest he was having with Sasuke, and faced Kiba with a scowl.

"What'd you say?"

"You heard me…_idiot_."

"Take that back, Kiba!"

"Make me!"

As the two leapt at each other to begin that day's round of inanity, Sai turned to Sasuke with a small smile.

"They do this every morning, and it always has the same result. I wonder why."

Sasuke snorted.

"Because they're _both _idiots, and they haven't yet realized it."

"I think it's due to their lack of penis, myself."

Sasuke threw him a disgusted look.

"I bet you've checked, haven't you?"

Sai blinked, clearly confused by the question.

"Of course! I made it a point to measure all of you when we were signed on to the band. Christmas is coming soon, you know, and I read that it was considered polite to give friends gifts during the holiday. Naruto-kun told me codpieces were appropriate gifts for bandmates."

"…You shouldn't listen to that moron. He's…a moron."

"I know, Sasuke-kun. Are you doing all right now?"

"…"

Sai took his silence for a confirmation, and walked alongside his brooding band mate.

"That's good, Sasuke-kun. For a moment I thought you were still sulking over Ita—"

Sasuke froze mid-step, and turned to Sai with murder in his eyes.

"_Don't _even say his name."

Sai merely smiled on, unperturbed by the hostility coming off Sasuke in waves.

"Oh, so you are upset. I wondered for a while, actually."

"I am not _upset_," Sasuke hissed. "Popularity polls are _beneath _me. I don't care that—"

"The fangirls voted Itachi sexier than you over all in the _NUMBER WHAT SEXY!_ poll? Just a week after you won it? Also, you should stop frowning so much. I've read that it causes premature wrinkles."

"Shut up."

Oh, Sasuke-kun was getting angry. Sai thought that it was about time for a compliment, and searched his mental files for an appropriate one.

"Also, Sasuke-kun, I think that it is amazing that you haven't yet succumbed to the weight of your gigantic inferiority complex. Well done!"

The Uchiha considered him for a moment, wondering if Sai was purposely trying to egg him on. Normally, he would have attacked, but Sai was a…special case. One could never really tell with him—his face was so inscrutable, and his eyes were as dark and as blank as Itachi's.

_Itachi…_

At the thought of his older brother, Sasuke felt his hands clench into tight fists. He looked up and met the eyes of his reflection in the mirror, relaxing when he noticed the way the light played over his skin, and the way the midnight-black of his hair contrasted sharply with the pale angles of his face. He smirked in satisfaction.

Yes. Still sexy, no matter what that stupid poll said.

"I'm going to…get some tomatoes. Or something. Don't follow me, freak."

He stalked off, his shoulders stiffer than usual, leaving the other standing alone with an air of confusion.

When he left the commune he'd grown up in—a small one in the boondocks of rural Japan, where emotional reactions were weaned out of children, and everyone existed in a state of happy ambivalence—Sai had no idea what to expect. His experience thus far was certainly doing a good job of opening his eyes.

He padded off to the kitchen to make green tea, nodding to Shikamaru and Neji as he passed them.

"They're so troublesome," Shikamaru said, referring to their two brawling band-mates, working the words out around a yawn.

"_I'll _say," Neji hissed out. "And I'm going to take care of it, right _now_."

The brunet flicked his hair over his shoulder and out of the way, barely managing to avoid hitting Shikamaru in the face with it, and walked away to deal with the mess. Shikamaru slumped down where he stood, and began snoring, curling up into a little ball.

From his place near the door, Kakashi sighed. Clearly, Shikamaru had forgotten to take his codeine again.

Oh, well. At least he wasn't doing _tai chi _this time. Kakashi shook his head. It figured that Shikamaru would be more active asleep than he ever was awake.

He turned his attention to the middle of the floor, where Hurricane KibaNaru seemed to be concentrated, and prepared himself for a show.

"What do you morons think you're doing?"

At the frostiness in his voice, Kiba and Naruto stopped, mid-brawl and looked up at the Angel of Death. Kiba sneered.

"Fuck off, _princess_. Go play with your _D&G_ handbags."

Naruto seconded him, their fight forgotten for the moment in the face of a Mutual Enemy.

"Yeah, princess! And you maybe wanna think about trimming your nose hairs. They're getting pretty long."

Neji seethed, and kicked them both as an outlet for his frustration.

"_I_ am having a _crisis _of _epic proportions_," he said, through gritted teeth. "The humidifier is on the fritz and my hair is _not _cooperating with me today." He gestured to his near-flawless head of hair—_near_-flawless, due to one stubborn strand that seemed determined to utterly _ruin _the perfect center-part.

Naruto and Kiba quirked a brow in perfect synchronization, and Neji sighed with momentary satisfaction—he _knew _that there'd been something to his theory about them both sharing the same brain cell.

"_So_," Naruto asked snippily, drawing the word out for four extra beats. "What's your point?"

"My _point_," Neji said through gritted teeth, "is that all your arguing, brawling, breathing, _living_ is taking up precious oxygen, and adding to the despicable carbon dioxide in the air, _which_ in turn, is adding to the humidity. Which is messing up my hair. _You_ are messing up my hair. In conclusion—stop breathing and save the oxygen for those of us who _matter_."

"Why, you—"

Kakashi, who'd expected something a bit more explosive, chose that moment to intervene.

"All right, boys. That's enough. Naruto, go get Sasuke and Sai in the kitchen. Neji, stop Shikamaru before he drowns himself in his drool. Kiba, you retrieve Lee."

Naruto squinted up at their manager, suspicion clear in his blue eyes.

"What's going on?"

Kakashi spared him little more than a glance, which predictably had the blond puffing up with Righteous Indignation.

"I got a Phone Call," he said mysteriously, and Neji could _hear _the capital letters.

"And it's probably going to change your lives."

.

_tbc_

* * *

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**LAWL.**

We are a band of Epic Sadists who like picking on Neji.  
And yes, they are spices. They wouldn't be the Spice Boys if they weren't.  
Nobody's gay. I think. They're just…_meterosexuals_!  
I talk too much. Sigh.


	2. Chapter 2

**title:** Spice Jam   
**author(s):** Epic ADD  
**pairing(s):** Sasuke/Sakura, Neji/Reflection  
**for: **you, the people!**  
disclaimer:** we do disclaim  
**notes: **so sorry for the wait, guys. It's all my – meaning Annie's – fault, honestly. Sigh. Thanks for the support, though, and especially for the _positive _comments about my favorite theory: that Sakura is Pein and Konan's lovechild. I mean, it's so _obvious._

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* * *

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There was a reason that Pein had assigned Deidara to Sakura, not only as a guardian but more specifically, a _driver_. How the accident-prone teenager had past her exams and actually obtained a license was still a mystery considering the two collisions she'd been in.

Her first accident was a minor one that remained a 'family secret'. She had had her license for about two weeks and when Deidara had dropped her off at her mother's _private_ family estate, Sakura couldn't help but run into the garage and take out Konan's customized Bentley Continental GT. She'd been eyeing the thing for quite some time, so sitting in the driver's seat, Sakura didn't seem to realize how strongly she'd stepped on the gas.

Or that she'd be in _reverse_.

Nobody got hurt but Konan wasn't too pleased to hear her precious car needed repairs.

Sakura's second accident happened when she was eighteen during her summer break between high school and university. It had been very late at night and when she was making a left turn at the lights, a car came out of nowhere, hitting the right side of the car. Her father had been livid when he found out the driver who hit his little girl was drunk and two days later, Deidara came into the picture and Sakura's car keys were taken out of it.

At least Pein _thought_ so.

When Sakura heard from Deidara that he was going to be gone for a week on a vacation, she couldn't help but rejoice knowing she'd get to drive again. She immediately went to the garage and took back the keys for her precious convertible.

She had an actual destination, though. Driving aimlessly for the sake of driving could wait a few hours.

Right now, she had a meeting with the Spice Boys.

She could only imagine the hell she'd walk into. Sakura couldn't help but remember her high school days when after gym class, the girls would be gossiping while getting redressed into their uniforms. Some would be doing their makeup, blow-drying their hair and so on. From what she'd researched (read in magazines), the Spice Boys was on the list of _Bands with the Biggest Wardrobes_. While it also said that they were charitable, donating said most of said wardrobes to charities after tours, she still couldn't help but fit them all into stereotypes.

_They _are_ pretty good looking though,_ she thought, glancing at the open magazine on the passenger's seat beside her. The magazine was a bit old, coming from last May, so in the spirit of prom outfits, the Spice Boys were all dressed in different tuxedoes. _Yum_.

But still! What self-respecting guys would—

Ugh. Sakura shook her head miserably, dreading the meeting to come. Her father told her meet with them before the tour to get a 'feel' at what they were like.

"Oh, fuck my life..."

_Do it for the purses! And the shoes! The _shoes_!_

Sakura groaned. She took a sip of her non-fat vanilla latte and put it back in the cup holder.

"_You have now arrived at your destination_," said the robotic female voice of her GPS.

Carefully, Sakura parallel parked her car between a large _orange_ hummer and a motorcycle, praying to the gods she didn't believe in – Daddy only believed in money and himself, apparently, so no one really taught her religion – that she wouldn't hit anything. Another notch on her record and Pein would surely never let her drive again. Sakura made it though, and she couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped her lips when she took the key out of the ignition.

She reluctantly got out of her car and walked over to the large door to what was supposed to be Spice Boys' so-called headquarters. Sakura knocked on the door very loudly and waited a few moments before someone finally came to open it.

"_What_?" the man hissed.

Judging by the grouchy tone and _major_ bed head, Sakura assumed she'd just woken the poor guy up, which really confused her, as it was already two in the afternoon. He wore nothing but a pair of red boxers – _silk or satin?_ – and a tan cashmere robe which Sakura could have _sworn_ she saw one time when she went shopping in the _ladies_' section.

What the hell was _wrong_ with these men?!

"Uh..." she began gracefully. Sakura shook her head and quickly regained her composure. "Sorry. Right. I'm here to meet with the Spice Boys."

"Hmph!" The brunette at the door snorted and flicked his long, lustrous hair over his shoulder. He made a show of rolling his lavender eyes and checking his cuticles and then making a small gasp, likely having found a broken nail or something. "_All_ girls – even _guys_ – want to meet the Spice Boys." He scoffed at her, giving her a once over. "We don't just let _anyone_ in. Especially ones dressed like you."

Sakura couldn't help but grow offended. Who the _hell_ did this man think he was?! She grew up observing some of the greatest wardrobe assistants ever and this _loser_ had the audacity to oh-so smugly tell her she dressed poorly? Sakura thought back to what she put on that morning, quite pleased with what she'd chosen. A simple red dress, casual yet professional, with some black stockings beneath for the chilly November air. She donned a pair of dark brown boots and then her usual black leather jacket. She even wore a nice purple scarf to accessorize!

"Excuse me?!" Sakura bit out indignantly.

Inwardly, she counted from one to ten, putting the father-daughter anger management classes she and Pein attended together to good use. She pictured a box and then shoving her anger into it, but later put the _source_ of her anger (the boy at the door) into the box, justifying the action by saying getting rid of the anger's source would make more sense that just temporarily just getting rid of the anger.

Sakura slowly exhaled and then proceeded to glare. "Look," she began in her mother's professional-but-thoroughly-annoyed-and-ready-to-throttle voice. "My name is Haruno Sakura—"

He snorted once more, cutting her off. "Seriously, what do you want? An autograph or something? A lock of hair? Boxers? My _babies_?"

_Oh, fuck this!_

Enraged, Sakura turned on her heel and stomped back to her car.

She was _not_ working with these people. No amount of shoes or purses could get her to spend three months with the Spice Boys.

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* * *

.

"Who was at the door, Neji?" Kakashi asked as the boy in question walked towards he and Naruto.

The Spice Boys' manager sat at on a stool at the island in the kitchen with a mug of coffee in one hand while reading the newspaper in the other. Neji couldn't help but notice that Kakashi wasn't even drinking the coffee, but didn't think to far into it. He was still very hungry and that stupid fan girl had interrupted his breakfast. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw his Eggs Benedict still intact on his plate.

Naruto snorted at Neji when he realized the brunette thought he was going to steal the food. "Yeah right, loser," Naruto said, shooting Neji's a breakfast a look of disgust. "Don't flatter yourself, thinking I'd eat your crap. That shit looks disgusting."

Neji glared in return. "This _shit_ is delicious, you moron."

"Yeah, okay—"

"The door, Neji?" Kakashi interrupted loudly before a fight could wake everyone else up. The boys had been at the studio until four in the morning so Kakashi allowed them to sleep in. Besides, they had a small, private, invites-only show that night so Kakashi wanted his boys to be as awake as possible. Especially Shikamaru.

"Oh." Neji cut off a piece of his breakfast and ate it before answering. "Some fan girl. She was weird," he commented thoughtfully. "Had _pink_ hair."

"Aw damn!" Naruto groaned. He stared at Neji, looking utterly betrayed. "And you sent her away. I could've used that 'can I see if pink's your natural hair colour?' line, you idiot!"

"Well excuse me for thinking with my head – and I'm talking about the one on my shoulders."

"O—oi!"

"Pink, huh," Kakashi murmured. He thought back on the various pink-haired people he'd met in his career and only coming up with a three. One was an aging actress who thought she'd try being young again, another was a singer who thought she looked 'cool' and the other was the sassy spawn of business guru Haruno Pein. The one who grew up to be a protégé of her dear daddy's in video production.

The one who Pein said would be tagging along on the boys' tour and making the documentary that would air on MTV and either solidify or break their career.

"What was her name?" asked Kakashi, his visible eye wide open.

"Uh..." Neji paused to go over the scene at the door. "Sakura. Haruno Sakura, I think."

Kakashi cursed under his breath. Gravely, he put down his coffee mug and then dropped the paper on the counter. He brought his hands to his temples and groaned.

"You two," he began in his Managing Voice, "go see if the girl is still outside. If she is, bring her in and for your fames' sakes, treat her like a goddess!"

When they reluctantly did as told, Kakashi shook his head sadly at Neji.

"And he calls Naruto an idiot..."

.

* * *

.

Sakura was _furious_. To try and relieve her stress, she kicked the side of the Spice Boys' building. This only served to give her a bruised toe and a sourer mood. Freakin' Spice Boys!

Sakura pulled out her phone, a pink BlackBerry Pearl, and hit and held the letter 'D' to speed-dial her father. She didn't even _care _about the shoes anymore. There was just _no way _she could deal with the Spice Boys – not if they were all as prissy as _Cinnamon_.

The phone continued to ring, and she exhaled gustily, sending her bangs fluttering. _Of course_. Daddy Dearest was probably in a meeting. Or, more likely, he was screening his calls – of course he would be expecting her to refuse.

Smart man. She couldn't _stand_ him!

She beeped open the lock to her car, yanked open the driver's side door, and leaned in to deposit her bag on the passenger side, when there was a tap on the window, and she looked up—

—Only to lurch back from shock when she saw the smiling face pressed up against the glass.

"Oh my _God_!" she squealed, grabbing the car door for balance. Her heart was racing, and she put a hand over it, trying to regain her composure. "Who the hell are _you?"_

When the face pulled back from her window and reappeared over the hood of her car, though, Sakura recognized him. Blond-haired, blue-eyed, goofy-grinned Naruto, aka Silly Spice was beaming at her.

"Hi there!"

"…"

"Where are you off to?"

"…"

For the first time, Naruto's smile faltered. He looked slightly nervous. "Okay, so here's the thing," he said in a rush, "Neji was cranky because one hair was out of place or Akamaru stole his nail polish or something stupid, so he was kind of a jerk to you, but he totally didn't mean it."

Sakura blinked.

"But my manager really, _really _wants you to give us another chance, and Neji will apologize and we're all sorry but the rest of us aren't like that, or at least I'm not, so please come back? Also, you're really pretty!"

She didn't understand anything but his last few words, but Sakura was easy to win over, so she sighed, shutting her car door again.

"Lead the way, then."

.

* * *

.

So Naruto was stupid and loud. From what she had seen and heard so far, Kiba seemed to be much the same, but also a bit of a lech. Neji was prissy and annoying, Shikamaru was just a lump on the couch, and Sai was creepy. That was five freaks, so Sakura really did think she was prepared for anything else the Spice Boys might throw at her.

That was, until Naruto and Sai led her through the cool, dim corridors of the house into the brightly lit, surprisingly cozy kitchen in the back of the house. While the appliances were sleek, shiny stainless steel, the entire room was painted a soft, pale yellow. The dining table was spacious, squashed into a corner, and the blinds to the numerous windows were open, letting light shine through. But Sakura only noticed those details later, for as soon as she entered the room, her gaze slid – against her will – to one Uchiha Sasuke, leaning against the breakfast bar, elbows on the table, examining the expiration date on a carton of milk with distaste.

"This is nearly three months past its expiration date," he announced, setting down the carton. Immediately, Naruto bounded over.

"Nearly's good enough for me!" he said cheerfully, taking the carton and tipping it towards his mouth to guzzle it down.

Sakura didn't know who to stare at: McGorgeous, or The Human Garbage Disposal.

Of course, that was when Sasuke looked at her, one eyebrow raised coolly. "And you are?"

Sakura twitched at his infuriatingly superior tone. Rockstar needed to be brought down a notch. "Haruno Sakura," she said, dropping her gaze and brushing non-existent lint from the skirt of her dress. "You might have heard of me."

Sasuke scoffed. "Hardly."

Sakura smiled frostily. "Then we're even." She glanced around. "Where's your manager?"

Naruto, who Sakura was finding was something like an overeager, always ready-to-please puppy, turned to her. "I'll go get him, Sakura-chan! You just sit there and look pretty. Sai, get her some food!" he added on his way out the door. "I'll find Kakashi—_oof."_

Naruto stumbled back from the door, clutching his nose. The tall, lanky man in the doorway that he had bumped into looked hardly affected. "No need, Naruto," he said pleasantly, "I'm here."

He turned to Sakura and said pleasantly, "Why don't you sit down? Would you like a drink? Sasuke, make her a smoothie."

Sasuke ignored him. Sakura didn't look impressed.

"I'm good. Can we just start?

Kakashi crossed the room to drop back in his seat at the counter. "Of course," he said. "Just as soon as Lee gets here."

Neji sniffed. "He went for a run. He has to shower before he comes near me."

Sakura rolled her eyes and sat as far from the priss as she could, right beside Shikamaru. "There's _another _one of you? Have you _multiplied _in the past year?"

Sasuke glared at her. "Akatsuki had more," he reminded her indignantly.

Sakura smiled, crossing her legs at the ankles and leaning back in her hard-backed chair. "Yes, but," she said coolly, fluttering her eyelashes for added effect, "Akatsuki also had _Itachi_, and he was all that really mattered."

Sakura had played her cards exactly right. Sasuke twitched, attempted a sneer, and stalked out of the room, but not before Sai called: "Don't be jealous, Sasuke-kun! You will always be sexy to us!"

Sasuke's ears were burning scarlet as he disappeared down the hall, and Sakura stifled a laugh. Naruto, dropping down into the chair beside her, didn't bother to hide his amusement.

Sai, for his part, continued to smile, albeit he looked a bit puzzled. He turned to Shikamaru for help. "Did I say something inappropriate?"

"You're _always _saying inappropriate things," Shikamaru grumped. "Just stop talking."

Ever obedient, Sai abruptly shut his mouth.

Sakura had been watching this with interest. "Should I write you boys a script?" At Kakashi's look, she added, "Children _will _be watching this, you know."

"That's fine with us," he said lightly. "We _are _a wholesome, family-loving group, you know."

Sakura bit back the insults threatening to spew from her mouth and took a calming breath. She was a professional, after all, and Daddy was counting on her. She _did _want to impress him, and not _entirely _for the shoes.

"Of course," she said with a little laugh, trying to play off her earlier attitude. "Well, could someone please find Lee, then? I would really like to get started."

Kakashi glanced around. "Lee should be—"

"Fear not! The Beautiful Green Beast has appeared!"

"—Just coming in." The skin around Kakashi's lone visible eye crinkled in a smile, his gaze on the doorway, and Sakura turned to see the final member of the Spice Boys, Mr. Nice Spice, wholesome, spandex-wearing, lovable Rock Lee.

Despite Sakura's attitude toward – well, everything, she was actually a very professional, hardworking girl. She had researched the Spice Boys from the moment she had agreed to film their documentary. She had made a clear schedule, outlined everything that she had hoped to accomplish, even color-coded her lists! All her information was compiled in one neat black binder, tucked away into her bag with her laptop and digital camcorder. She _knew _the Spice Boys, inside and out.

Still, she wasn't expecting… _this_.

Decked out in green spandex and orange leg warmers, Rock Lee was a study in Fashion Crisis. Not only was his taste in clothes questionable, but his way-out-of-date bowl-cut and blindingly bright teeth were, to put it mildly, _painful_.

Even so, he was the first of the Spice Boys to smile at her sincerely, so Sakura looked past his unusual appearance.

"Hi," she said. "Lee, I presume?"

"Your presumption is correct!" he said cheerfully, drawing up a chair beside her. "And you must be Haruno-san!"

He was kind of enthusiastic, but that balanced out Shikamaru's… Shikamaru-ness. Lee was quickly becoming her favorite.

"Just Sakura is fine," she said, reaching out a hand for him to shake. Then she pulled out her binder, clicked open a purple gel pen, and looked round at the table. All eyes were on her, of all the Spice Boys – minus Sasuke – and their manager. Her roomies for the next three months.

She hated her life.

"Well, then," she sighed. "Let's get started. First, a few questions…"

.

* * *

.

**INTERVIEW WITH THE SPICE BOYS – FAILURE ONE   
**_Transcript provided by the unfortunate interviewer.  
Note: No last name was provided for Sai, AKA Smiley Spice. As such, his statements are denoted with, simply, 'SAI'._

Haruno Sakura (HS): All right, let's start with the basics: what got you into singing?

Uzumaki Naruto (UN): Girls.

Inuzuka Kiba (IK): Girls.

HS: …

Hyuuga Neji (HN): Why shouldn't I share my talent with the world?

UN: I can think of a few reasons…

Rock Lee (RL): I read an interview once given by the maestro himself, Gai-sensei, and he said that the explosion of youth was best captured by—

_[inset; Sakura: "Um, sorry, but we have a 5000 word minimum /or/ only fifteen minutes of film for this portion, so we're gonna have to cut you off there."]_

IK: Dude, shut up.

RL: That isn't very polite, Kiba…

IK: Bad boys get the girls. Right, Sakura?

HS: Ahem. What about you, Sexy—_Sasuke_? Sasuke. Yes.

UN: Elle oh elle.

IK: Loser.

HS: _(over the bickering of Dumb and Dumber) _SASUKE?

Uchiha Sasuke (US): _(broods. No, really.) _There is someone I must defeat…

HS: Um. Wait, what?

RL: Sasuke-kun gets a bit touchy over his brother sometimes.

UN: Please ignore the emo behind the curtain.

HS: You mean your brother? I _love _him!

US: … _(glares)_

UN: I'll protect you, Sakura-chan!

HS: …Sai?

SAI: My commune elected me to explore the outside world, and this was the easiest way to acquire a large sample for my social experiment.

HS: Oh, uh, how interesting. _So_, how did you guys—

SAI: And Penis.

HS: What.

IK: Ignore him. It's a bad habit.

HS: Okay, so, um, moving along…

RL: Sakura-san! You forgot Sleepy!

HS: …The dwarf?

UN: Nah, the lazy ass over there.

HS: Oh my God, he isn't moving!

IK: He's just asleep. I'll go wake him.

HS: Wait, don't—

IK: _(kicks Shikamaru in the rib)_

Nara Shikamaru (NS): …Ow.

IK: I rock. Do your thing, babe.

HS: …Shikamaru, what got you into singing?

NS: _(yawns) _Nothing. I'm not into it.

HS: No?

NS: Nah, but it got me out of school, so…

UN: You are a disgrace to our Spice Rack.

.

* * *

.

"All right, then," Sakura said, as she turned the camcorder off, and slipped the gel pen she'd been using to take notes into the spirals of her binder, after making a mental note to call the Censorship Bureau. Sai's comments—clinically delivered as they were—could be too much for the PTAs of the world to handle, and the last thing her father needed was a class-action law suit. Perhaps, they could—

"Hey! _Hey! _Sakura-chan! Are you listening?"

Sakura's eyes slid sharply into focus as she was jerked back into the waking world by one Uzumaki Naruto, alias, Silly Spice.

"Sorry," she said, making an honest effort to sound appropriately apologetic. "You were saying?"

He pouted, and Sakura had the sudden feeling that he was unused to being ignored. _Oh well_, she thought, reaching into her purse to pull out her BlackBerry. Her Father would want an update, after all.

"I _said_," he sing-songed, drawing the word out so it lasted four beats instead of one, "I said that we needed your help with something."

Oh," Sakura replied, arching a brow, as she clicked _Send_. "And what might that be?"

"Well," Kiba drawled, eyeing her in what he must have thought was a seductive manner, but Sakura only found faintly unnerving, "you see, babe—"

Sakura wrinkled her nose at the diminutive, but was saved from a scathing retort by another interruption from Naruto.

"We're making a music video," he said excitedly, bouncing on his heels. "It's gonna be _awesome_."

"It will _not _be 'awesome,' as you say, Naruto. 'Awesome' is _plebian_—beneath us. Or well," he said after a moment of consideration. "It's beneath _me_, anyway. No, no, Naruto. This endeavor will be pure _eurhythmy_ at its completion—its every moment will be an artistic triumph. They will call us vanguards of a new era in music, forerunners of a cultural revolution that will ultimately bring about a—"

Sakura marveled at the way Neji could say so much in just one breath.

Naruto and Kiba's reactions, however, were much less quiet.

"_Oi_," Kiba yelled irritably, missing the way Sakura's lip curled distastefully at the sight of him cleaning his ear with his pinky finger. "Shut up, Neji."

"Yeah," Naruto echoed. "Shut up! Or if you won't, then talk normal like the rest of us!"

Neji sniffed in distaste.

"I make every effort to speak _normally_, Naruto. _You_, on the other hand, do not seem very inclined to attempt to understand me. Or perhaps, it's simply a question of capability. I shouldn't blame you for your mental deficiencies."

"Are you calling me dumb," Naruto said, as his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

It was at this moment that Sai chose to remind the room at large that he was still in it.

"Are you deaf, Naruto-kun," he inquired politely, that fixed smile ever present. "Because I am standing on the opposite end of the room, and I heard him from here. Maybe instead of a codpiece, you might prefer a hearing aid? I think that considering our line of work, fixing your auditory sense is more important than allowing you the dignity of pretending you have a pen—"

As this—arguably unintended—insult began another round of shouting, Sakura allowed her attention to drift to other occupants of the room. Lee, who'd left immediately after the interview to go for a jog with his mentor, had yet to return, and had left his bright orange leg warmers in concession to the heat. They were folded in two perfect squares near the foot of one chair, and for a moment, Sakura wondered whether he shared Neji's tendency towards OCD.

Her eyes followed Hatake Kakashi as he walked out of the entrance to the kitchen, and stopped on Shikamaru. She watched as he rolled his eyes, and gave up the battle he'd been waging to stay awake. The interview seemed to have taken a lot out of him, and really, when it came down to it, it wasn't as though his narcolepsy was something _entirely _controllable. The research she'd done on the band before hand proved itself most invaluable in his particular case.

Finally her eyes landed the last member of the group—Uchiha Sasuke.

She'd known herself long enough to know when she wanted something, and her earlier faux pas only confirmed it. _Sexy _and _Sasuke _sounded the same didn't they? They vaguely rhymed—sort of—and both words started with the letter _s_. _Really, _she thought, smirking slightly as she watched him brood _they're all but synonymous._

Still, one could only take so much Drama, and Sakura had enough in her life to add him to the mix. She had a feeling his _Issues _came in spades.

Not that she could blame him. Uchiha Itachi was, in more ways than one, a hard act to follow, and everything from the school records she'd examined, to the popularity polls she'd pored over seemed to indicate that in every way that mattered, Sasuke had come second to his elder brother. An inferiority complex the size of her mother's third estate was the last thing she needed to deal with.

Besides, she had a job to do, and she would not allow Sasuke, sexy or not—oh, who was she kidding?—or his stupid dark eyes, and his stupid toned arms, and his stupid tight…

Well, in any case, he would not be a distraction.

Sakura nodded to herself surely. Daddy was counting on her, and she could not—would not—buckle.

"Guys," she said so sweetly, and so suddenly, and so clearly, that even Shikamaru seemed to make a sincere effort to turn to her in his sleep. The attempt ended with the slight _thump_ that told everyone present that he'd fallen to the floor—again. After a brief look to see whether he'd broken any major appendages that would prevent him from going on tour, and thus, slow the progress of group as a whole, Sakura continued.

"I have an idea for the music video," she said, "I mean, if you don't have any already."

Sasuke arched a—perfectly _plucked_, she'd bet; at the very least, _waxed_—brow.

"_You_," he said, making the word sound like something foul. "_You_ have an idea for our first music video?"

Sakura glared.

"Yes," she began to hiss, before then stopping short. She needed to _sell_ this. They had to _buy_ it. It wouldn't do to rouse any suspicions from stupid boys who were too stupid pretty for her own good.

"Yes," she said again, more normally this time. "That is, if you wouldn't mind an outsider's view of things."

"And what would _you _know about it," Sasuke asked. His voice was blank enough, but the distaste in his eyes was almost palpable.

"Yes, do tell, Haruno-san," said Neji. Our target demographic—that means people we wish to appeal to, in case you didn't know," he explained condescendingly, as though she hadn't broken her back doing course work on exactly that subject. She could tell him what it meant in twelve different languages, but Sakura held her tongue.

"I know what it means," she said instead. "And it's women right? Between the ages of what—thirteen through forty? Fifteen through fifty?"

"Yeah, something like that," Naruto added, apologetically. "So sorry, Sakura-chan. You wouldn't really be able to help us. But thanks anyway!"

Kiba slapped his forehead loudly with his palm.

"Idiot," he groused. "What's _she_ look like to you?"

Sakura tried very hard not to grit her teeth too loudly when Naruto paused to consider her, before he stood to circle her.

"Hmm," Naruto murmured. "Hmm…_hm!_"

"Moron," Sasuke muttered. "She's a woman," he said, almost grudgingly.

"Thanks _so_ much for noticing," Sakura said bitingly.

"Well if you dressed a little better, maybe it wouldn't be so difficult to remember," Neji said pointedly, bringing Sakura back to the unfortunate confrontation that had almost cost her this opportunity. The thought of it prevented her from replying directly to Neji and his priss, and instead, she chose to direct her next words to the room at large.

"As Sasuke was _kind enough_ to note," she started dryly, "I happen to be a woman. Even better I'm a teenage girl on the brink of adulthood, and so I have both my formative _tweenie_ years behind me, and my Dirty Twenty ahead. In short, _boys_, I know what women want," she finished triumphantly.

"Midol," Naruto said, unthinkingly. Sasuke snorted inelegantly at this, while Neji contented himself with an eye roll.

After a brief twitch borne of repressed hostility, Sakura shook her head, visions of monogrammed _LV_s and Damier canvas, dancing in her mind.

"No, Naruto. Not Midol."

"Then what," Kiba asked.

"I have two words for all of you," Sakura said, pausing for dramatic effect. She glanced around the room; she had their full attention. Excellent.

Sakura took a breath. "Two words," she repeated, "_glimmering werewolves."_

.

_tbc

* * *

_

.


End file.
